Unlike today’s teenagers—who are content to stay at home staring into the screens of their smartphones—during my 1980s adolescence in Detroit, I could not wait until the moment I obtained my license and was then able to careen about in a manner dangerous to other motorists. When that time came, I personally made do with a lovably ratty 1973 BMW. But my luckiest and most reckless friends were given Camaro IROC-Zs: overpowered, fire-breathing neo-muscle cars that were, in a twist on the Rumpelstiltskin narrative, seemingly designed to spin black tire rubber into white smoke. Happily ensconced in my weird European coupe, blaring Joy Division, I did not want to be these kids in their hopped-up Chevys. But I was slightly envious of their good fortune.

Nearly 30 years later, I’ve recently come across, in rapid succession, a quintet of overpowered, fire-breathing neo-muscle cars. They’re not Camaros, but since it’s getting near St. Patrick’s Day, I’ll say they all have the luck of the IROC! (Almost? No? Credit for trying.) Click through the slide show below to view our five-leafed automotive clover.

Jaguar XKR-S

We drove this sumptuous Jag—the fastest car in the automaker’s history—to an exclusive resort in Santa Barbara. While having a drink at the bar there, I was scolded by a man in a sailor’s cap for using a curse word. I felt briefly ostracized. But then when I went to retrieve the car, I found it valet-parked right out front, alongside a Ferrari. It felt nice to fit in again. At $132,875, this sense of belonging seemed a bargain.

Photo: Photograph by Brett Berk.

Nissan GT-R

I’ll be honest, every time I stomped on the accelerator in this supercar, I was filled with both adrenaline and terror. The GT-R’s mechanical power rush makes one feel like one is piloting a vast robotic factory, the sole product of which is velocity. There isn’t another vehicle for $96,820 that can summon such unadulterated hysteria.

Photo: Photograph by Brett Berk.

Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT8

I will admit, I have an ongoing obsession with ancient American proto-S.U.V.’s, and I’ve owned a few 1980s Jeep Grand Wagoneers. These trucks were leather-lined, richly carpeted, and trimmed inside and out with the veneer of the polyvinyl tree. They would drive through anything—when they drove at all. But two days skidding around Tampa proved that this Hemi-powered hot-rod beats them (and most sports cars) in every performance category. At a time when vintage Grand Wagoneers are trading for $50,000, buying one of these bat-shit blasters for $55,295 seems like a bargain.

Photo: Photograph by Brett Berk.

Mercedes E63 AMG Wagon

We named the E-Class Wagon one of our Five Best Cars in 2010, and once referred to its progenitor, the clattery 300TD, as “a gay aphrodisiac.” I was thus thrilled to borrow this upscaled, up-powered Benz Estate during a recent trip to L.A., where it regularly rocketed me, my passengers, and all of the champagne and toilet paper at the local Costco to 60 m.p.h. with Lamborghini-like alacrity. (Also, my test model’s Cuprite Brown paint was the epitome of Chocolatey Glamour.) At last I’ve found the answer to the $104,250 question: Can barbarity be elegant? (Yes.)

Photo: Photograph by Brett Berk.

McLaren MP4-12C

Charles Laughton directed the eerily perfect Night of the Hunter and never made another movie. M. Night Shyamalan directed the deliberately stupefying The Sixth Sense and then shot eight leaden failures with the same inane set-up. Independent car-maker McLaren had to heed both examples when creating a follow-up to its legendary three-seated 1990s supercar, the F1. My test drive in California’s Inland Empire proved that the $229,000 MP4-12C is a worthy successor. Credit the scratch-built twin-turbo V-8, advanced weight-reducing materials, and adaptable hydraulic suspension (filled with Unicorn bile) for its ability to feel rich, precise, and blazingly fast, without ever feeling brutal. If they’d just turned up the dials that provide exotic good looks, it’d be a perfect 10.

Photo: Photograph by Brett Berk.

Jaguar XKR-S

We drove this sumptuous Jag—the fastest car in the automaker’s history—to an exclusive resort in Santa Barbara. While having a drink at the bar there, I was scolded by a man in a sailor’s cap for using a curse word. I felt briefly ostracized. But then when I went to retrieve the car, I found it valet-parked right out front, alongside a Ferrari. It felt nice to fit in again. At $132,875, this sense of belonging seemed a bargain.

Photograph by Brett Berk.

Nissan GT-R

I’ll be honest, every time I stomped on the accelerator in this supercar, I was filled with both adrenaline and terror. The GT-R’s mechanical power rush makes one feel like one is piloting a vast robotic factory, the sole product of which is velocity. There isn’t another vehicle for $96,820 that can summon such unadulterated hysteria.

Photograph by Brett Berk.

Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT8

I will admit, I have an ongoing obsession with ancient American proto-S.U.V.’s, and I’ve owned a few 1980s Jeep Grand Wagoneers. These trucks were leather-lined, richly carpeted, and trimmed inside and out with the veneer of the polyvinyl tree. They would drive through anything—when they drove at all. But two days skidding around Tampa proved that this Hemi-powered hot-rod beats them (and most sports cars) in every performance category. At a time when vintage Grand Wagoneers are trading for $50,000, buying one of these bat-shit blasters for $55,295 seems like a bargain.

Photograph by Brett Berk.

Mercedes E63 AMG Wagon

We named the E-Class Wagon one of our Five Best Cars in 2010, and once referred to its progenitor, the clattery 300TD, as “a gay aphrodisiac.” I was thus thrilled to borrow this upscaled, up-powered Benz Estate during a recent trip to L.A., where it regularly rocketed me, my passengers, and all of the champagne and toilet paper at the local Costco to 60 m.p.h. with Lamborghini-like alacrity. (Also, my test model’s Cuprite Brown paint was the epitome of Chocolatey Glamour.) At last I’ve found the answer to the $104,250 question: Can barbarity be elegant? (Yes.)

Photograph by Brett Berk.

McLaren MP4-12C

Charles Laughton directed the eerily perfect Night of the Hunter and never made another movie. M. Night Shyamalan directed the deliberately stupefying The Sixth Sense and then shot eight leaden failures with the same inane set-up. Independent car-maker McLaren had to heed both examples when creating a follow-up to its legendary three-seated 1990s supercar, the F1. My test drive in California’s Inland Empire proved that the $229,000 MP4-12C is a worthy successor. Credit the scratch-built twin-turbo V-8, advanced weight-reducing materials, and adaptable hydraulic suspension (filled with Unicorn bile) for its ability to feel rich, precise, and blazingly fast, without ever feeling brutal. If they’d just turned up the dials that provide exotic good looks, it’d be a perfect 10.